Last Thing On Your Mind
by The Girl Who Loved Tom Brady
Summary: "The first vision I remember having was my mom dying in a car crash. The is before I knew what car accidents were, I didn't know what death was," Blaine shuddered, recalling the glass sparkling like snow, "I was four, Kurt." - Clairvoyant!Blaine AU
1. Prologue

**Last Thing On My Mind**

Originally a prompt from the 'Blangst Prompt of the Day' on Tumblr. Also originally posted on my Tumblr (haha)

**Prompt: **Blaine becomes clairvoyant after a near-death experience.

**Warnings**: Nothing too major, swearing, Klainbows.

**Disclaimer**: Don't own Glee, of course, nor anything else you may recognize.

o o o

"Cooper! Cooper no!" Blaine shrieked as the older Anderson heaved him over his shoulder. The four-year-old's fist pounded into his back but Cooper didn't pay much attention, laughing merrily as he spun around the family's living room.

He did, however, pay attention when the playful hitting stopped and the little boy grew all-too still in his arms. He half-dropped Blaine on the couch, worried further by the fact that his brother wasn't saying anything… he wouldn't even look him in the eye. Blaine's normally bright caramel eyes held a dark faraway look and his expression was completely blank.

"Blaine?" Cooper panicked, Blaine continued to be unresponsive as the older boy tried his hardest to get Blaine to snap out of whatever spell was holding him.

It was only about half a minute later (it felt like a millennia to Cooper) but Blaine's eyes shifted back into focus, blinking a few times as if registering _oh, where was I?_ Cooper breathed a sigh of relief. Not a second later though…

The little boy burst into tears, screaming something about snow that didn't melt in fire and metal that burned.

It took nearly an hour for Blaine to calm down, and Cooper still didn't know if Blaine was even conscious during the spell. _Was that a seizure? Should I have called Mom? What if it had been worse? I'm never babysitting again!_

And things didn't get much better when their mother finally got home. Cooper had finally settled Blaine at the kitchen table with a coloring book and a juice box and had just set down his own snack when Blaine began howling again, throwing himself at her.

"Blaine, sweetie! What's wrong?" Mrs. Anderson cooed, petting the little boy's hair as he buried himself in her skirt. She shot a glare at Cooper, because whatever this was was obviously _his _fault.

Cooper rolled his eyes, his earlier worry easily forgotten. Blaine just wanted their mother, like any four-year-old was allowed.

He didn't think of the incident again for a very long time, certainly not when their mother died in a car accident two weeks later. The little spells didn't phase Blaine as much as the first had, he hadn't screamed like he had that first time, and both Cooper and his father saw them as passing incidents left over from a child who lost his mother too early - nothing to be concerned with.

Until Blaine got sick, _really_ sick.

Cooper remembered how it started or at least when they first noticed. He picked Blaine up from the school bus as always, the middle school let out well before Blaine's elementary school, and the two of them would walk home hand in hand. Blaine rubbed his eyes sleepily and fished out a note for Cooper to read.

"You slept all day and yesterday?" Cooper asked with alarm, "Your teacher didn't send you to the nurse or anything?"

The little boy yawned, "Didn't have a fever… and I didn't want to bother Papa at work."

The older brother felt Blaine's forehead with the back of his hand. "Bumble bee, you're burning up."

"M'fine. Just sleepy."

Cooper broke into a frown, "Blaine."

"Coooop," Blaine whined, some of the spark coming back into his eyes as he tugged on Cooper's jacket. "Everyone gets sick af'er Christmas break. That's why…"

"That's why we drink our orange juice," Cooper nodded along. He bundled the boy up in his arms, "Alright, I won't call Dad, but you're taking a cold bath and some Tylenol and if you're still not feeling well in the morning we'll call Doctor Lauren."

Blaine melted in Cooper's embrace, "T'anks Coop."

Unfortunately, their father worked on saturdays, so only Cooper was there when Blaine woke him up screaming bloody murder at eight the next morning. Cooper rushed to his brother, who looked at him with wide, frightened eyes. Cooper didn't think it was possible for Blaine to look a paler shade than yesterday, but he was practically white that morning.

"No. No. No. No," Blaine feebly pushed away Cooper's hands as the older Anderson attempted to calm him down and get him to lie back in bed.

"Blaine, we're calling the doctor."

"No doctor!"

"No, you promised that if…"

"NO!" Blaine shrieked, "Everyone there is sick!"

"It's just Doctor Lauren, Bee, you see her for a check up every few months."

"No, no… there are lights, red and blue and red and…" Blaine ceased struggling, Cooper pulled him into a tight embrace. "They're all… they're there because of me. I made them sick. Sick. Sick. And…"

"It was a nightmare Bumble Bee, just a nightmare, because of the fever," Cooper pulled away to look at him, but the younger boy took too long to turn his head and look back, and when he did, did so with a twinge of pain. Cooper knew he didn't just need their pediatrician, but a hospital. And their father.

And Cooper wanted his Mom.

The rest of the day was a blur of the ambulance and IVs and watching with terrified eyes as they took his brother _away from him._ They returned later with a small prescription of pills for him and his father and someone was on the phone calling Blaine's school.

The meningitis eventually went away.

The seizures only got worse.

Cooper couldn't blissfully ignore them any more. It was a constant gnawing at the back of his mind. The epileptic seizures didn't worry him nearly as much as the absence seizures (it scared him that he had to know the difference) because those were _manageable_. The ones where he lost his brother for seconds, minutes at a time, and couldn't console him afterwards… those were the worst.

However that's what medication was for, and their father was certainly good for that.

o o o

Blaine shrugged his blazer off and loosened his tie with one practiced motion before flopping on his bed in his dorm at Dalton Academy. He didn't care that he was missing Warbler practice, Wes would have first murdered him for being entirely _off_ and then sent him to his dorm room anyway.

It wasn't like he needed the practice, he knew the song by heart, the choreography had been drilled into his brain like a…

He pinched the bridge of his nose and shut his eyes tightly. Okay. So no jack hammer metaphors when he had a headache.

_It_ had been building for a week, and Blaine was surprised he hadn't spaced yet. He wasn't looking forward to when it decided to rear its ugly head though, the severity of the vision was usually proportionate to however long it took to build.

The pills didn't help, not that they really were any good in the first place, they were more to placate his father. So he didn't take them. Sure, they helped to prevent those seizures that were triggered by normal things - but they masked the buildup towards the visions.

And the last big vision came too late for Blaine to prevent it from coming true. It hit him right as they walked out hand in hand to a chilly October night a year before.

He hadn't taken the pills since then.

He couldn't prevent all the visions from happening. Some were unavoidable, but other little ones he could - studying for a pop quiz, making sure to pack two lunches for when one of the commuters forgot theirs.

This one though… a _week_.

It was big, and Blaine felt like that scared four-year-old so many years ago.

He could hear Cooper in the back of his head, _maybe you should visit the doctor? This isn't normal Bee._ He rolled his eyes… what was normal? Nobody ever believed him, and he stopped bothering to try to convince them.

It was something big, trembling in his bones and down his spine and…

He couldn't remember, he shot up from his bed in a panic, looking at his watch and finding nearly ten minutes had passed without realizing it. Had he fallen asleep? No… the headache was gone… he must have forgotten whatever it was.

No he can't forget! Blaine paced around his room, wringing his hands through his hair. No. No. No…

Blaine dug his palms into his eyes, trying to block out the rest of the room… focusing on something mirrored, white…

There was something… blue? Or green?

His head began to hurt again, trying to dig up hazy memories of something that hadn't even happened yet.

o o o


	2. Chapter 1

**Last Thing On My Mind: Never Been Kissed**

**A/N**: Most chapters take place before/during/after an episode's original timeline. There will be mistakes, because I can't be bothered to get every little bit of canon correct. But then, neither does Glee itself so I don't feel particularly bad about this. Leave a review darlings!

**Prompt: **Blaine becomes clairvoyant after a near-death experience.

**Warnings**: Nothing too major, swearing, Klainbows.

**Disclaimer**: Don't own Glee, of course, nor anything else you may recognize.

o o o

He had never forgotten a vision before, they stayed with him in striking clarity. Blaine pulled at his hair anxiously, pacing wasn't doing him any good.

Things he saw, well, thought he saw… white with something mirrored and a brilliant dash of the sea. It was the only way he could describe it.

His thoughts were interrupted by a knock at his door. "It's unlocked," he called distractedly.

The door swung open with a whisper, and Wes leaned against the doorframe. "I can't decide if you look better or worse than before," he said flatly.

Blaine chuckled, albeit weakly, "It's complicated."

"You know I wanted you at the Warbler meeting," Wes admonished him paternally, "Being lead and all. I wouldn't have made you practice choreography, but having you at least sing your part would have been great."

"I'm fine Wes."

The older boy's eyes flicked to the suspiciously full prescription bottle on Blaine's windowsill next to the bed. "I see you're…"

Blaine glared at him warningly, "Wes…"

The asian boy frowned unimpressed, "… _not_ taking your pills again."

"I just had them refilled," Blaine lied easily. Wes hummed, Blaine knew he didn't believe him, but then he did _lie._

"Blaine," Wes deadpanned, "We know you're fine, but you're sometimes not… so we want to be there when you're… not?"

He furrowed his eyebrows, thinking over what Wes said. Whatever antagonism between them passed, and Blaine could only laugh as it transitioned into the absurd. "That made absolutely no sense," he finally chuckled.

"Yeah, I suppose it didn't."

"I mean, really?"

"You know what I meant."

Blaine nodded appreciatively. "I did, and I'm fine," he smiled.

Wes grinned, "Good. We have a performance tomorrow during free period. _Teenage Dream._"

"What?" Blaine asked with alarm.

"You missed the meeting," Wes teased, "We almost gave your solo to _Nick._"

_Blaine thought about that for a minute, picturing his friend singing lead (it wasn't Katy Perry though? Wasn't that what they had been practicing?) while the rest of Warblers sang behind him with smiles on their faces. There was another person there too, but he didn't know who. _

"He would have done a great job," Blaine finally said. Wes was frowning and Blaine blinked, "Uhh… I don't mean actually do that, I'll be fine for tomorrow."

"Your face went… funny."

The sophomore rolled his eyes, "_Your_ face is funny and I don't insult you about it."

Wes looked as though he wanted to say more, but decided against it, "Tomorrow then?"

"Tomorrow."

"You'll be amazing, get some rest," the older boy said before closing the door quietly.

Blaine figured his roommate would be in soon (one of the joys of his medical issues meant he needed a roommate) but he didn't bother leaving the lights on for him after he got into his pajamas. Homework be damned, he wanted time to think about the missing vision, white and mirrored with a glimpse of the sea.

Whatever it was had been at the same time amazing and awful, a mere moment and yet vast like eternity.

He drifted off to sleep, and although he didn't see his future, he dreamt of it.

Blaine got dressed as he did every day the next morning. He showered brushed his teeth, undergarments, shirt, pants, attempted to tame the mass of curls atop his head, double-windsor knot for his tie and then slipped on his Dalton blazer. He left his feet for last, wiggling his bare toes in the carpeting of his dorm room until the very last moment. Socks. Shoes.

Ritual complete, he grabbed breakfast from the mess hall and went to class. AP Language, Trigonometry, Chemistry, and a free period for lunch. He was halfway through his copy of _In Cold Blood_ (required reading for his english class) when he remembered about the Warbler performance in the senior commons.

Just any other day.

He was about halfway down the stairs to the commons when he felt a breeze pass his shoulder and a whiff of the ocean.

"_Excuse me…"_

o o o

Wes silently waved over Blaine and David with a flick of his head, before nodding at Kurt who was caught up in the cheers and commendations of the other Dalton students.

Blaine frowned at Wes, but the silent conversation between the two friends left no room for doubt. Kurt didn't belong, it was as obvious as the plain red tie around his neck.

He turned Kurt around with a gentle squeeze on the shoulder, "Hey Kurt…"

"That was… amazing," Kurt melted into happy smiles and fluttering eyelashes. "I mean, you guys are incredible and the whole school was just _into_ it…"

Blaine inwardly cringed, before he leaned in and whispered, "Let's find someplace a little quieter to talk." The other boy's face fell as he realized he had been caught, and the complete lack of a poker face prompted Blaine to smile slightly as he teased, "Yeahhh… Don't worry, we won't bite."

Along with Wes and David, Blaine escorted their little spy to one of the less used common rooms at Dalton. Kurt settled into a chair opposite the older boys, looking throughly panicked under the scrutinizing gaze of the two uniformed Warblers while Blaine made Kurt and himself some coffee.

Kurt looked as though he liked his sweet, Blaine reasoned as he poured more milk than coffee into the other boy's cup.

"Latte?" Blaine asked, returning from the coffee machine for the community use of Dalton students. He placed a mug in front of Kurt and his own on the table before taking a seat himself.

"Thank you…" the other boy replied tentatively.

"This is Wes and David," Blaine explained, motioning to the Warbler councilmen.

"It's very civilized of you to take me out for coffee before you beat me up for spying."

Blaine couldn't be sure if the other boy was being sarcastic or not. The thought of beating someone up was a sore spot. Thankfully Wes had a better head on his shoulders, "We are not going to beat you up." Attempting to mask any conceived anxiety, Blaine gulped down a too-hot sip of coffee.

"You were such a terrible spy we though it was sort of… endearing," David added warmly.

Blaine placed his coffee back down, and finding his voice said "Which made me think spying on us wasn't really the reason you came." He raised an eyebrow at the boy's open expression and nervous laugh.

"Can I ask you guys a question?" He asked tentatively, a beat passed between them and when the Warblers didn't voice any objection he continued, "Are you guys all gay?"

Blaine laughed, admittedly it wasn't the kindest response upon seeing the boy's expression, but it was an honest one. "Uh, no," he replied, "I mean, _I am_, but these two have girlfriends."

David elaborated, "This is not a gay school. We just have a zero-tolerance harassment policy."

"Everybody gets treated the same. No matter what they are…"

_Gay, straight, secretly psychic._

"… It's pretty simple," Wes finished.

This seemed to cause Kurt to freeze with an expression all too familiar for Blaine to ignore. He saw it a lot in the mirror in middle school and the beginning of his freshman year. "Would you guys excuse us?" Blaine asked kindly.

Wes seemed to hesitate, sharing a look with Blaine, but acquiesced. "Take it easy Kurt," he said politely, nodding at David as the two of them left Blaine and Kurt to themselves.

"I take it you're having trouble at school." _I did._

"I'm the only person out the closet at my school," Kurt trembled as he spoke, the telltale shake of someone who had been strong for so long all by himself. Tears gathered in the McKinley boy's eyes and Blaine continued looking at him with passive patience. "I tried to stay strong about it, but… there's this neanderthal who's made it his mission to make my life a living hell… and nobody seems to notice."

Blaine considered him for a moment… _something mirrored and a glimpse of the sea_. He ignored the tugging at his chest, the wrongness and doom tickling the back of his neck. "I know how you feel," Blaine said empathically.

o o o

_Courage._

It had taken him way longer than he cared to admit to come up with the single word to text to Kurt.

And as soon as he pressed send he regretted it. Courage? That was so… _uncool_ - Blaine was trying to be cool and confident and every bit the put-together _Dalton Gentleman_ he was supposed to be. He wasn't, but he sure was good at pretending.

They were in the library, Blaine once again buried in the disturbing tale of murder, _In Cold Blood, _before the second half of the day_._ Blaine hated the book. Wes was at a table next to him, flying through his calculus homework.

Blaine bit the inside of his lip. There was a building pressure in his chest since the day before, akin to the one from before only this was faster, more oppressive and infinitely more malicious.

_And it wasn't for him_. He couldn't begin to fathom why, it was like whatever it was had been long in the coming and terrible and nothing would ever be the same - but it wasn't him.

He had worked out a while ago that he only had visions of himself and people close to him, people he's touched and people who have touched him - not in a physical sense, but as a deep emotional connection.

_Kurt._

Oh god, Blaine choked. Realization collapsed on him like a ton of bricks. He had told him to face his bullies. Do what he couldn't because he had the _audacity_ to believe Kurt could do it and he would be fine. And why? Because he could sometimes see the future? He _hadn't_ seen Kurt's future, he didn't know what would happen and he told him to anyway. Why? Why? Why?

"Blaine? Are you okay?" A worried voice cut through the flutter of nervous whispers and shouts and screams in Blaine's head.

But he wasn't fine. He wasn't…

The sound of fists slamming against a locker tore at him and he blinked, back at Dalton all too soon.

"I have to go."

He was moving, or the room was, he wasn't sure.

"Blaine, where are you…? With what car?" Wes replied worriedly as he got up from his seat. Blaine stood uneasily and the older boy caught him, steadying him with a hand on his shoulder. "No, you're going to the nurse," Wes said definitively.

"I have to…" Blaine fell back onto the couch, taking Wes with him. He pulled out his phone quickly. "Pick up pick up," he prayed into the microphone.

Wes touched his forehead and his shoulder again, but Blaine ignored him.

"_Kurt Hummel…"_

"Kurt! Don't follow_"

"_I'm not here right now, but if you want to…"_

Tap.

Tap. Tap. Tap. Tap. Tap. Tap. Tap.

_Ring. Ring. Ring. Ring._

"_Kurt Hummel. I'm not here right now…"_

Tap.

Tap. Tap. Tap. Tap…

Wes wrestled Blaine's phone from him. "Stop," he ordered, forcing the sophomore to look him in the eyes. The senior stared at Blaine steadily, a stark contrast to Blaine's own frantic eyes. "We're going to the nurse, and you're taking your medicine."

"Wes, please, we have to go to McKinley. I can't… _begin_ to explain why, but it's important."

"McKinley is over an hour away."

"I told Kurt to stand up to his bullies. Why would I do that? Wes?"

He sighed, one hand resting on the side of Blaine's face and the other attempting to still the sophomore's shaking fingers. "He's fine. I know he reminds you of yourself, but not every ignorant asshole is going to be one of the ignorant assholes that hurt you Blaine. There's so many more people at McKinley, he has his whole Glee club and they'll look out for him."

This only made Blaine feel worse.

Because that football player _wasn't_ one of the guys that beat him a year ago.

Because there were more people at McKinley than there were at Dalton and they just _didn't care._

Because he wasn't fine.

"Come on, you're going to worry yourself into another seizure," Wes whispered calmly, half dragging Blaine back to his dorm room. The older student took the prescription bottle from Blaine's windowsill and pressed it and his water bottle into Blaine's hands.

With a raised eyebrow, Wes ordered him to take his medicine for _once_. When Blaine made no indication he was going to do so, Wes crossed his arms and huffed. "Blaine. Stop being childish. It's this or I take you to the nurse who will tell you the same thing. And then call your father."

Blaine shot him a glare, knowing Wes had him cornered. This was exactly why he hated letting people in, because they just didn't get it, how important this was to him. Although Wes hadn't seen him at his worse, he had still been there for Blaine.

"I'll tell your professors that you're sick," Wes whispered. "And Nick and Jeff are checking on you in between classes."

He rolled his eyes.

"And take the pills."

"Can I have my phone back?"

"No. You're taking a nap."

"I need my phone."

Wes begrudgingly handed him the phone and left to get to his own classes, but Blaine couldn't deal with him, or anybody for that matter, at the moment. And so, Blaine was finally alone, for the first time since spacing to find some giant assaulting his adorable spy.

Tap.

Tap. Tap. Tap. Tap. Tap. Tap. Tap.

_Ring. Ring. Ring. Ring._

"_Kurt Hummel. I'm not…"_

The sophomore threw the phone at his bed.

He didn't hear back from the McKinley boy all afternoon, and the silence was overbearing. Blaine knew with a sinking feeling in his stomach that his vision was coming true and he couldn't do anything about it.

He thought about forcing a vision, a trick he had tried once before but ended badly (a splitting headache and six stitches from where he hit his head on the coffee table.) Yeah, a trip to the emergency room would only serve as fuel for Wes's fire.

Blaine closed his eyes and drew in a deep breath. He hadn't the first clue about meditating (something Cooper had once insisted that Blaine try) but focusing on just breathing did help calm him.

Katy Perry however, didn't.

He jumped on his bed, searching the covers and the pillows for wherever his phone ended up. Triumphantly he cheered and brought it to his ear.

"Kurt!"

"_Blaine? I… I'm sorry to bother you like this, you're probably doing something wonderful and courageous and singing Katy Perry or…"_

Any hope that Blaine had managed to catch Kurt before the vision came true was dashed at the broken sound of the boy on the other line. "Kurt, are you okay?" He knew he wasn't. God, he _wasn't_, but Blaine needed to know that he eventually would be.

"_I'm… I just… I just need to talk to someone who cares."_

o o o

He opened his eyes.

Alright.

Dalton's classes started in a half an hour, McKinley's would be about the same time. He could probably make it by lunch time if he took two buses and a cab. It would be easier if he had a car (like Wes had) but he didn't so that wasn't an option.

He didn't bother getting out of his uniform, wanting to be at the bus stop as soon as possible. Sure, it might have been a bit funny, and obvious, that he wasn't a student at McKinley but if the school didn't take the time to notice the obvious bullying of one of its own students than they sure as hell wouldn't notice a prep school kid skipping his own classes.

And sure enough, two buses and a cab later…

"Thanks again for coming."

"Don't worry about it, just let me do the talking."

"There he is," Kurt indicated, looking pointedly at a large boy in a red letterman jacket.

"I've got your back," Blaine told him. With a bold confidence, Blaine stepped up in front of the football player. "Excuse me!"

"Hey lady boys," he looked at Blaine with contempt, "This your boyfriend, Kurt?"

Ignoring the jab, Blaine glanced at Kurt reassuringly and continued, "Kurt and I would like to talk to you about something."

"I gotta go to class," the bully evaded, pushing past the two other boys, shoving Kurt very much on purpose as he did.

"Kurt told me what you did."

_And I had to watch._

"Oh yeah? What's that?"

Blaine gulped, swallowing back the fear and hesitation. Remembering the kiss he wasn't there for, the unadulterated look of horror in Kurt's eyes… he steeled himself for the confrontation he never had with his own demons.

"You kissed me," Kurt replied steadily, borrowing Blaine's infinite (and entirely feigned) confidence.

And there it was.

The larger boy looked around nervously, and for a moment Blaine couldn't blame him. A public confrontation wasn't what anyone deserved, but in this case it was the only way to insure Kurt's safety. (He was less concerned for his own.)

"It seems like you might be a little confused," the Dalton boy replied calmly, "And that's totally normal." The other boy began to walk away and Blaine followed. "This is a very hard thing to come to terms with and you should just know that you're not alone."

Blaine was less aware of the other boy charging at him as he was the sound the railing behind him jingling in his ears as he was pushed violently against the wall of the stair. Blaine couldn't allow himself to think about the words he was cursing at him or the feeling of hands on his chest.

"You have to stop this!" Kurt shouted, pushing the other boy from Blaine. Blaine couldn't do it himself, he was passively watching the scene as though he wasn't actually there. This was just a vision, not real. Vision. Not real.

It wasn't until the boy had left could both breath sighs of relief.

"Well he's not coming out any time soon," Blaine joked. It was the only thing left he knew how to do, otherwise he'd be showing off too much of himself to his new friend.

Kurt collapsed on the stairs. "What's going on?" Blaine asked, still not quite convinced the whole thing had even happened even though he was right there the whole time. He joined him on the stair, "Why are you so upset?"

"Because up until yesterday, I had never been kissed. At least… one that counted."

Blaine admired Kurt. He'd be okay. Maybe not fine, maybe not for a long time, but he'd be okay. "Come on, I'll buy you lunch."

o o o


	3. Chapter 2

**Last Thing On My Mind: Furt**

**A/N**: Sorry for the delay. Leave a review darlings!

**Prompt: **Blaine becomes clairvoyant after a near-death experience.

**Warnings**: Nothing too major, swearing, Klainbows.

**Disclaimer**: Don't own Glee, of course, nor anything else you may recognize.

**o o o**

Blaine Anderson hadn't thought much of one Kurt Hummel since the incident at McKinley - which wasn't to say he didn't spend all the time he could with the boy. If they weren't grabbing coffee or seeing a local production at the community theatre they were texting one another or chatting over Skype.

The Warblers kept suspiciously, blessedly, tongue in cheek about the whole thing. That didn't mean that Wes passed up on the opportunity to capitalize on Blaine's new abundance of energy during rehearsals. He claimed it was for quickly approaching Sectionals, but nearly everyone could see through _that_ lie.

The New Directions on the other hand...

Blaine had to wonder if they were being trying to be sneaky, or they were just being blatantly obvious.

There were really bad at the whole spying thing, perhaps they had all taken the same class.

When the girls kept "showing up" whenever the two hung out it was harmless enough, Mercedes actually joined them on more than one occasion. However, the boys...

One Wednesday night at the theatre Kurt marched over to a giant of a boy and his mohawked friend during intermission of _My Fair Lady._ There were a few choice words exchanged on Kurt's part (Blaine buried himself in reading the biographies of the actors in the playbill and was definitely _not_ eavesdropping) and the two sullenly returned to their seats.

"Are they enjoying the show?" Blaine asked cheekily as Kurt took the seat beside him.

Kurt huffed. "Oh completely, don't be surprised if either of them recommends that be McKinley's spring musical."

Blaine looked back in time to see both of them already dozing off before the lights dim. "I don't see either of them making a very good Professor Higgins. So who's who?"

"Noah is the one with the mohawk, Finn is... Finn," Kurt admitted with a blush.

Blaine leaned into Kurt's shoulder playfully, "I know that sigh. Finn is tall, dark, and straight?"

"And our parents are engaged. There was a _thing_, but I am _so over_ that."

He hummed, not pressing further. Whatever it was, Kurt had crushed _hard _and had likely _been_ crushed hard_, _and Blaine was more than familiar with that_. _Relationships, _dating_, were one of the few things they didn't discuss in any depth. Kurt was fresh off what happened with that bully and Blaine just wanted to be there for his new friend. And there was...

There were several private messages on Facebook waiting for him when he got back to the dorms that evening.

One was from Finn Hudson, hoping that he and Kurt had enjoyed the show, he went on about how really liked the part with the _speaking_ and the _accents_. Blaine had to give him some credit, apparently he had paid attention to more than just the inside of his eyelids during the play.

The second was from "Puck" Puckerman, whom Blaine assumed to be Finn's comrade in arms, and was the typical riot act regarding Blaine's intentions with his boy.

The sophomore chuckled to himself as he replied politely to both, hoping that they enjoyed their evening and that in the future they could perhaps make it a double date.

Not that he was _dating_ Kurt Hummel, but it was fun to tease the McKinley boys.

His phone chimed, '_Got home safely! -K_'

As Blaine was typing out a response another message sounded. '_Want to meet up at the mall for coffee on Saturday?'_

Blaine blushed profusely, pressing his phone to his lips with barely contain glee. 'Sounds fantastic,' he hastily replied. Did he reply too quickly? Did that seem too eager? He didn't even know _when _on Saturday, and he didn't even check to see whether or not he had Warbler practice...

He groaned, clutching the phone to his breast and turning over on his bed. No one was there to spy on his embarrassment, but he buried his face his pillows nevertheless.

**o o o**

_He twisted in his sheets, grabbed at his head and curling in on himself protectively. A spike of pain shot through his head, right through his one of his eyes, and drove deep into his skull. _

_Blaine couldn't help but cry out, pawing his eye socket desperately, growing more and more horrified as red dripped onto his clean white sheets and staining his palms and down his face. He scrambled out and away from the tangle of sheets and his duvet cover, putting as much distance between him and the red, red, red..._

_However cold (and had he had half the mind, Blaine would have recognized that was strange in itself) the red was, nothing quite matched the chill in his bones as blue-green smoke spilled into the room._

_Blaine trembled, staring at the blue-green as it collected by his side. A tendril misted across his face and through his hair and the echo of the pain of earlier ebbed away. He unconsciously leaned into the touch, falling deep into the blue-green._

**o o o**

Blaine blinked at the screen of his phone. It was just after three in the morning on Saturday.

He held up the phone that it lit the dorm room. The blue-green had vanished, but the tender touch lingered on his skin. Blaine frowned uncertain as to what the dream meant, curling back underneath his covers.

**o o o**

"Good morning Sleeping Beauty."

It wasn't everyday that Blaine woke up to Wesley Montgomery's handsome face scowling at him, so the unintelligent yelp of surprise on Blaine's account was a perfectly normal, _sane, _reaction.

Wes laughed, and Blaine threw a pillow at his head.

"What the hell Wes?" Blaine dug his palms into his eyes, attempting to shake off the last vestiges of sleep. He blinked owlishly as Wes opened one of the windows, allowing sunlight to pour into the dorm room. "How did you even get in my room?" Blaine asked, not for the first time, and probably not the last.

The older boy chuckled, but didn't reply, merely picked up the pillow Blaine had thrown earlier and tossed it back on the bed.

Blaine rubbed a hand through his hair, still not quite awake, "Guess my alarm didn't go off."

"It seems all you've been doing recently is sleeping in," Wes said, a bit too casually.

The sophomore shrugged, "Strange dreams. Different than my normal ones, just... strange."

Wes raised an eyebrow, but as usual Blaine didn't elaborate. "Regardless, up and at'im Anderson, it's practically noon and I'm tired of babysitting Nick and Jeff so it's your turn."

"Noon?" Blaine repeated dumbly.

"Noon," Wes verified.

Blaine cursed under his breath, he scrambled for his phone to check the time. He cursed louder, pushing Wes out of his way as he stripped out of his night shirt and began rummaging through his dresser. "Shit, shit, shit, I'm going to be late."

"For a very important date?" Wes teased.

The curly-haired teen huffed, rolling his eyes at his friend. "It's not a date," he explained, "It's just... coffee."

Blaine held out a few shirts for Wes to hold as he dug deeper in his dresser. He triumphantly held up a charcoal dress shirt and a bright pink bow-tie. "I figure I could pair it with a gray sweater vest and maybe lighter gray slacks? Or maybe red?" he rambled nervously, a tentative smile gracing his lips expectantly for Wes's reaction.

The older boy stared levelly at him.

"It's too much?" Blaine asked meekly, lowering the clothes a touch. He ran a hand through his hair, "Oh God, it is too much... maybe I should just..." he returned the offending clothes to their drawers. "I'll just go with a dress shirt and something navy. Navy's casual? Right? I mean, it's not a date, so of course I need to be dressed casually..."

"Blaine Anderson," Wes admonished, "You could be in plaid and ratty denim and still charm the knickers off all the girls from Crawford County."

"I'm not trying to impress girls from Crawford!" Blaine nearly shouted in exasperation. He looked wildly at Wes's ridiculous grin and snatched the other clothes from his friend. "Out!" he shooed, "I need to get dressed!"

He failed to notice that the coat he grabbed on his way out the door was his Dalton blazer until he was already outside with the bus rumbling down Dalton's main drive. No time to run in and change, he mentally braced himself for the sharp mockery to come.

**o o o**

"You look nice," Kurt nodded with approval as he drew close. His eyes flitted and narrowed at Blaine's chair, where draped over it was the tell-tale dash of red on the lapel of his jacket.

Artfully ignoring the accusatory glare of '_Really Blaine? It's _Saturday', Blaine looked down at his outfit and tried unsuccessfully to keep himself from blushing. "Thanks," he replied bashfully, he tugged at the sleeve of his sweater self-consciously, "I need to at least _try _to keep up with you after all."

Kurt smirked, "Even ignoring the egregious oversight on your part that _it's the weekend_, you're still wearing Dalton colors. And is that...?" Kurt leaned over, peaking at the tag of the navy sweater. "You're _wearing _a Dalton sweater right now Blaine. Do you own _anything _that's not navy or red?"

Blaine pursed his lips thoughtfully, "There's the white shirt... and our pants are gray... _so_..."

"You know what I meant."

He brightened tremendously and boasted, "I have a pink bow-tie!"

Kurt's eyes widen a touch, although he refrained from either smiling or frowning. "Oh, a pink bow-tie? I'd love to see you wear that sometime."

"Maybe I will," Blaine teased. The dark-haired teen motioned to the door leading to the rest of the mall, "Want to head off or stay for a cup of coffee?" He spun his own to-go mug around in his hand, showing it off, "I'm almost done, but I don't mind if you wanted to grab some first."

Kurt looked at him with concern, "You haven't been waiting long, have you?"

"I was meeting a friend earlier," Blaine replied politely.

The McKinley boy hummed noncommittally and Blaine couldn't make heads or tails of the expression that graced Kurt's face.

He jumped up from his seat with a clap of his hands. "So! What did we need here?"

Kurt crossed his arms in front of his chest, "Despite my protestation, my father has decided to _rent _suits. I've told him again and again that I could easily make them in time for a lot cheaper and certainly a lot better. Macy's is also having a sale. It's nearly December and I was thinking about new winter ensembles."

Blaine pursed his lips, "Ooh, the magnificent Kurt Hummel thinks so highly of me that my opinion holds weight in his decisions regarding fashion?"

The older boy smirked. "No," he replied drolly, "There's a maximum six items allowed in fitting rooms. _Someone_ has to hold my other selections." Kurt considered Blaine momentarily before conceding, "You are allowed to voice opinions so long as you keep them precise and in vogue. Any misinformed fashion advice and I will revoke this privilege faster than you can say cashmere."

"Have you considered navy blazers?"

His friend shot him a scandalized look and faked a weary sigh, "Well you lasted longer than Finn."

Blaine smiled cheekily.

They spent much longer than Blaine could have thought possible at the tuxedo rental. He was mind-numbingly bored out of his mind because Kurt was a teutonic knight of righteous opinion and absolutely refused to listen to reason (_Really Kurt, no one besides yourself will be able to tell the difference between carbon and ebony._)

Thankfully however, Macy's was much more a give and take between the two teenagers. They made a game of it, each picking outfits for the other, getting progressively more and more colorful and outlandish. Blaine quickly realized Kurt had the innate ability to pull off _anything _and was impossible to shock. Kurt boldly declared he won when Blaine refused to wear a fitted prom gown.

In the end, Kurt found a new sweater and a smart newsboy cap. (_How did you walk out of here spending less than twenty dollars? That has to be some sort of super power._) He spent quite a lot of time staring longingly at a silvery scarf that Blaine resolved to come back and buy for his friend for Christmas.

The whole afternoon was a refreshing and welcome whirlwind outside the stuffy halls of Dalton, and left Blaine wishing there were more hours in the day.

Outside, Blaine stared at the reality of the freezing rain that had begun some time between an argument between colored corduroy or denim. "Can you maybe drop me off at Dalton?" Blaine asked sheepishly.

Kurt blinked, as though Blaine had started speaking in Mandarin. "Don't you have your own car?"

"No car," Blaine shrugged submissively, "I rely on the kindness and goodwill of my friends." The McKinley boy raised an eyebrow. "I'll buy you coffee next time," Blaine bribed with bravado.

"Large, with whipped cream and chocolate syrup... and one of those cheesecake brownies on the side?" Kurt side-eyed amicably.

"As you wish," Blaine laughed.

Kurt sighed, pressing against the wall as thunder rolled in the distance. "That is seriously tempting, but I can't drive you back to Dalton today. It's late and my Dad is expecting me back before nightfall which is already _not _going to happen."

"That's fine. I'll call Wes," he lied easily. Wes was on a date. David had gone home for the weekend. The dark-haired teen pursed his lips together tightly, having the sinking feeling it would be a long night waiting at bus stops. He could call a cab if he really needed to.

Kurt frowned apologetically, "Blaine..."

"Really," Blaine reassured. He looked back to the rain pouring down and back to Kurt. He laughed and Kurt gave him a strange look. "I... it's really coming down," Blaine chuckled, "It's just... funny."

"This vest is dry clean only," he clucked indignantly. "I _know, _it's not that big of a deal but it's a big deal _to me _and that's reason enough to be appropriately cautious."

Blaine shifted, rolling his shoulders and taking off his blazer and offering it to Kurt.

Kurt eyed it dubiously.

He flashed a disarming smile, "It's fine, I promise. Kurt, I go to a private school with a bunch of other teenage boys, it's safe to say those can stand up to a little rain." Blaine grins triumphantly as Kurt drapes the jacket over his shoulders, "Looks good on you."

The older teen laughed, "I don't know about _that. _I doubt these really look good on anybody. You know, if you gave me a sewing machine and an hour, I could tailor that so it at least flattered your..."

"You love the blazer," Blaine retorted tartly.

"You're impossible," Kurt blushed. "Time to brave the rain then," he took his keys from his bag and shared a look with Blaine before taking a deep breath, "I don't want to just leave you here. You are sure you'll be fine, Blaine?"

"_Blaine?"_

Kurt was frowning, his face much closer to Blaine then he remembered. "Always," Blaine dismissed.

He looked unsure, "... and Wes will pick you up?"

Blaine nodded, mulling over the flash he just had just seen - _it was inconspicuous enough, just a window and the first hint of falling snow. He felt the familiar tug of a tailored suit around his body as he turned around to see Kurt smile back at him. Blaine's heart clenched as the blue-green fog curled around Kurt's body._

"Yep," he reassured Kurt, glancing worriedly over the other boy's shoulder to verify his dreams weren't invading reality too.

**o o o**

_Tell me about Dalton._

What would you like to know?

_Do actually go to class? The only times I've seen you in a school setting you were singing Katy Perry and skipping class to come to my school._

Yes we go to class!

I'm actually doing chemistry homework. _Right_. _Now_.

_And you're clearly engaged with that, seeing as it took you less than five seconds to see I texted you._

_Do you have alternatives to the uniforms? Like an optional casual Friday?_

It's regulation! And you've seen me in other clothes.

_That night we went to the theatre you were wearing everything but the blazer Blaine._

_You actually went to the theatre _wearing_ the tie._

I came straight from school, what can I say?

_I am going to teach you the importance of having multiple outfits available at all times._

It's hard to go wrong with a white dress shirt and gray slacks.

Even fashion forward Mister Kurt Hummel has to recognize that.

I'll remember to bring another tie next time. Perhaps the pink one. I may have a few others lying around that you might approve of.

Maybe one of my sweaters or something to go with it.

_Oh dear God please no._

_If it says Dalton I will burn it._

Not a Dalton sweater, I promise!

And I _like_ my Dalton things, they're classy.

_Well really that's all I needed to know._

What?

_Dalton brainwashes you into lives of shapeless sport coats and company pride._

Oh right, you wanted to know about Dalton.

I mean, there's not much to know. It's a private boarding school. Maybe our classes are a little smaller and more challenging than yours at McKinley, but it's still the same math, english, science, and history you're learning at your school.

The major differences are that my school colors are navy and red, most of us board here, and the cafeteria serves free coffee :D

_And you're happy there, right?_

Of course I am.

_My dad is calling me for dinner. Wish me luck, I'm going to wow him and Carole with my final wedding plans._

_For them. Wedding plans for them. Not me. Obviously._

_Wedding logistics._

_Oh you know what I mean. I'll talk with you later._

**o o o**

And Kurt went offline. For over a week.

Blaine told himself not to worry about the sudden lack of communication between the two. _Wes _told him not to worry about the sudden lack of communication.

Kurt was obviously preoccupied with the wedding.

Yeah, that was it.

It didn't stop him from worrying.

Blaine Anderson was nothing if not a pro-worrier.

Maybe he didn't want to accidentally talk about Glee Club? Sectionals was coming up soon. And there was wedding planning.

Right.

Come the following Monday, the other boys on campus were whispering about a new student, and Blaine inwardly mulled over the fact it was odd for a transfer student this late in the year. Even when he transferred, he had done so at the beginning of spring semester, having spent the majority of his freshman fall semester in the hospital or with private tutors.

His father hadn't thought he ready to return to school, but Blaine adamantly disagreed. More time off wouldn't help, and frankly, the sooner he put it behind him, the sooner Blaine felt he could move on with his life. He was still in the process of moving on, but at least he was moving _forward._ It was hard though, although Dalton was leagues better than Westerville, Blaine still felt a flutter of nervousness stir within him being with so many other people his same age.

_So here is to moving forward_, Blaine cheered the new student, whoever he was and whatever his story might have been. He slid his notes and books back into his messenger bag. Whoever the new student was, he was determined to make the boy feel as welcome to Dalton as Dalton had for him the year previous.

But first, lunch, where he met an all-too familiar shock of chestnut hair and flash of fair skin.

Blaine approached Kurt from behind quietly, intending on sneaking up and surprising the older teen. The Dalton student leaned in and whispered, "Has the little Titan come to spy again?"

Kurt jumped, staring at Blaine with wide eyes before recognizing who it was with a sigh of relief.

"I'm sorry for scaring you like that," Blaine apologized immediately standing besides his friend. He kicked himself mentally, he was already botching this. "I'm just surprised to see you! I haven't heard from you in forever," he added in a cheerful, searching tone.

"Sorry, things have been... _busy_," Kurt replied, staring intently at his coffee.

"At least this time you're wearing the proper colors," Blaine remarked, tentatively reaching to Kurt and brushing the lapel of the Dalton blazer. Kurt returned with a tired smile. "You know you didn't have to _wear _my coat in order to return it," Blaine playfully admonished, moving his hand to squeeze Kurt's shoulder affectionately.

"Actually this is mine," Kurt replied quietly, casting a look downwards at the floor. Blaine raised an eyebrow. "Yours is hanging up in my dorm room."

Blaine tilted his head in giddy shock. "Wait, what?"

Kurt merely replied with a shy, bashful smile, his blue-green eyes regaining a bit of sparkle to them.

The sophomore broke out into a wide grin and pulled Kurt into a tight, lopsided hug. "Gosh! That's... Kurt! You're the new student! Welcome to Dalton!"

A strange feeling akin to _deja vu_ struck Blaine - or maybe it was _premonition_ - regardless, the moment prompted his brain to finally catch up with the situation at hand.

He pushed Kurt to one of the side tables worriedly, taking the seat besides him. "You, but you... and what? What about McKinley?" Blaine's mind raced a mile a minute, "Is everything alright? I hadn't heard from you for ages and I was worried and you're probably not here just _because _and golly, I'm rambling, I'm sorry."

Blaine paused, cautiously studying Kurt for a moment. "Do you want to talk about it?" He asked gently.

Kurt frowned and furrowed his eyebrows in contemplation. "Not really," he finally replied.

The dark-haired teen sank back in his seat, patting Kurt once on the knee. He could respect that. "I'm going to get some lunch," he said in a sing-song voice as he stood up, "And then I want to see your schedule! And then we'll discuss auditioning for the _Warblers_!"

The former McKinley student seemed significantly less enthusiastic then Blaine was, but that was alright by the sophomore - Blaine was more than happy enough for the both of them, nestled in the heart of their little birdhouse, away from the wind.


End file.
